


Apparent Magnitude

by mylittlecthulhu (marineko)



Series: Red Shift [5]
Category: Arashi (Band), Johnny's Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-10
Updated: 2010-03-10
Packaged: 2018-02-11 12:59:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2069139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marineko/pseuds/mylittlecthulhu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Apparent Magnitude: The apparent brightness of an object in the sky as it appears to an observer on Earth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Apparent Magnitude

> Apparent Magnitude: The apparent brightness of an object in the sky as it appears to an observer on Earth. [[Source](http://www.seasky.org/astronomy/astronomy_glossary.html)]

  
  
  
Nino was Aiba’s closest friend, and there was nothing that Aiba wouldn’t do for him. But there was one thing that he would never tell Nino. A little over a year after their break-up, Aiba had gone to see Sho.  
  
Well, sort of.  
  
It was Sho’s first concert as a solo artist. His first single had debuted very well in the pop charts, and he only rose higher in popularity since then. Voyager had really put all their support in marketing Sho’s music, which helped out a lot. Aiba was glad that Sho made it, but he couldn’t help but feel anguished every time he saw a magazine that mentioned Sho’s name, or walked into a store and heard Sho’s latest single playing on the sound system. When Sho’s first concert was announced, and posters announcing it were papered in every record store and live venue Aiba ventured into, he had felt like running back home and not going back out until the whole thing was over.  
  
Instead, he bought himself a ticket, and went to see Sho.  
  
 _Why am I even doing this?_  he kept asking himself on the way. The train ride wasn’t a long one, but the time felt stretched out before him, like it would go on forever. In a way, he supposed it was true. He would never be able to reach Sho again.  
  


  
})i({

  
  
  
The concert was amazing, but Aiba didn’t notice at all. He didn’t hear a thing. He didn’t see anything but Sho, so far away, so out of reach, as if he had never been anything but that person on stage, that so many people went to see. As far as mainstream acts go, it wasn’t that big a concert venue, but Sho’s audience still more than tripled even the biggest crowd that Red Shift had played for. Even though Aiba had heard Sho sing many times before, and seen Sho perform - had performed by Sho’s side - this was different.  
  
 _Sho-chan’s not Sho-chan anymore_.  
  
The grief that came from the realisation surprised even him. It had been over a year since the break-up, and even though Aiba still missed Sho, he had thought that he was learning to accept the fact that they were no longer together. But it still ached to think that he would no longer be the recipient of Sho’s rare affection, that he only showed in the most private of moments.  
  
Aiba thought of all the things he wanted to say, that he had thought he would say the first chance he got. He thought,  _tell me that you don’t want me anymore, because I don’t believe you. I don’t want to believe you._  He thought,  _tell me that every good thing you’ve done, every promise you’ve made, were lies_. He thought,  _tell me that you’ve been as heartbroken without me as I was without you, and that you want me back._  He thought,  _please_. Just this one word, repeated over and over. Please let the whole last year be a lie. Please take away the time and change everything that happened.  
  
But Aiba couldn’t say those things, not to this Sho. This Sho was a star - newly formed, but still shining brightly in a place Aiba couldn’t follow. The secret Sho, that only he knew of, was no longer his. As the show went on, Aiba continued staring blindly at the person on the stage, trying to find the last vestiges of ‘his’ Sho to no avail. Sho-chan was gone from him.  
  
What was left for Aiba was this person on that stage, this person that he was going to have to share with all of Sho’s fans.  
  


  
})i({

  
  
  
Long after the concert was over, Sho still felt agitated. There was something that bothered him about the live, but he didn’t know what. Watching the clean-up crew doing their work, he paced about anxiously, until he finally announced that he was stepping outside for some fresh air.  
  
He walked briskly down the path from the backstage entrance to the area behind the building. It was very late, and there barely anyone left in the small recreational park behind the live house, to Sho’s relief. He looked around for a bench, but when he spotted one, there was already someone there.  
  
“Aiba.”  
  
Lost in his own thoughts, Aiba was jolted back to the present at the sound of Sho’s voice. He stood up, but didn’t move away.  
  
“What are you doing here?” Sho asked. “It’s a long way from your place.”  
  
“I saw your show,” Aiba said, somewhat mutedly. “Congratulations on your first live.”  
  
Sho didn’t reply. The two of them just stood and stared at each other, unable to shake away the past in order to converse as if nothing had happened, and yet unable to talk about what had happened between them, or walk away from each other either.  
  
Aiba was taller than Sho remembered. He didn’t know if it was his memory that was faulty, or it was just that Aiba had grown since the last time he saw him. He thought he knew now why he had felt strange during the live. It was the first time he performed without Aiba by his side, and Sho missed him.  
  
Seeing the person he had wished to see so many times in front of him, it was all Sho could do not to pull Aiba against him, to not plead for forgiveness and ask to be taken back. He had worked  _so hard_  in the last year, and at the moment he felt like he would throw it all away for just one more day with Aiba.  
  
He needed to say something, he thought. He should at least thank Aiba for coming, or apologise again, or ask about Nino. Anything but this silence. But as he tried to think of something to say, a voice called out from the backstage entrance.  
  
“Sho? Are you out there?”  
  
In the dim lighting of the park, Sho could see Aiba turn pale. Aiba recognised Michiyo’s voice, Sho supposed.  
  
“I’m not here,” Sho called out to her. “But I’ll be back in awhile.”  
  
She laughed, and Sho could hear her talking to someone else as she turned back towards where she came from. His eyes didn’t leave Aiba’s throughout the whole time.  
  
“It’s not like - it’s nothing,” Sho said quickly. “Michiyo’s studying photo-journalism at school and I told her she could come and use the concert as her school project.”  
  
“You’re still dating her, though.” Aiba said it like a statement, but Sho knew that it was really a question.  
  
“Yes,” he admitted. “She kind of keeps me sane amidst all this - between college and work I get to the point where I’m completely overwhelmed sometimes.”  
  
Aiba wanted to say,  _I didn’t want to hear that._  He wanted to say,  _how could you make a new life so easily when you’ve left me with nothing?_  He wanted to say, _come back home with me._  Instead, he just said, “I missed you.”  
  
Sho winced visibly at his words; it was as if Aiba’s words could pierce right through him. He remembered how broken he felt when he left Aiba, and how even now he felt like he was made of fragments stacked delicately into some shapeless thing. Seeing Aiba again scared him, because he thought that the fragments that made up who he was would not hold any longer, and he couldn’t afford to go to pieces, not when there was so much at stake. So he did the only thing he knew to do.  
  
“You shouldn’t have come,” he said brusquely. He didn’t look away, even when Aiba looked back at him with such a bleak, empty stare, as if he was willing himself to be anywhere but there with Sho.  _He had to think I mean it_ , Sho thought. “What were you hoping to achieve, really?”  
  
“Nothing at all,” Aiba replied, his voice flat, without emotion. If he had felt desperate to have Sho back before, if he had felt broken down, now all he could feel was numb. “It’s not like I thought I’d actually get to meet you. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” Sho was prone to terrible bouts of anxiety before lives; he tried not to show it, but Aiba knew. Since this was the first time performing solo, and in front of a large audience, Aiba had worried that Sho wouldn’t be able to calm down, that there would be no one to reassure him that things would go just fine. He didn’t expect to find that Sho didn’t need him after all.  
  
Sho fought hard to breathe evenly, and forced a small laugh. It sounded just about contemptuous enough to cause Aiba to take a step back. “I’m fine,” he said as breezily as he could manage. “I’ve never been this great before, and things are only going to get better.”  
  
“I see,” Aiba responded, so quietly that he didn’t think Sho heard. “I’m sorry to bother you today. It won’t happen again.”  
  
“Aiba,” Sho said sharply, to his own surprise. He felt desperation and panic running through him; was he really pushing Aiba away for good? Was this really the right thing to do? Aiba was just as startled as he was, and took a deep breath, and held it, and hoped. Sho looked like he was about to say something important, but an inexplicable look appeared in his eyes, and he just shook his head furiously. “Take care,” was all he managed to say in the end.  
  
Aiba deflated, and let go of his breath. He tried to smile at Sho, but he didn’t think he quite managed, judging from the look Sho was giving him. The fact that tears were starting to run down his cheeks probably didn’t help, he thought. So he just nodded, and turned around. He walked slowly at first, but kept increasing his pace until he was practically running to the train station.  
  
Perhaps it was not too bad, he thought, trying to console himself, that the last words he would ever hear Sho say to him was ‘take care.’  
  


  
})i({

  
   
As soon as Aiba was out of sight, Sho let himself fall onto the bench with a slump, and buried his face in his hands. He cursed Nino for not keeping a closer watch on Aiba, and letting him come. He cursed Aiba for coming, for such stupid reasons - _he had wanted to see if I was allright, when all I’ve ever done was make him miserable!_  He cursed himself for that brief second of completely ridiculous joy that he felt when he found out Aiba had been there. He cursed himself for feeling tempted to give up everything, and he cursed himself for hurting Aiba when it was him who was too scared and shocked and couldn’t handle Aiba’s presence.  
  
When his phone started to ring, he lifted his hands away and stood up, but didn’t reach for the phone. He knew it was Michiyo; they had an early class the next day so she probably wanted to return to the dorms as soon as possible. He walked back slowly towards the live house, and thought about how the trepidation he felt about walking back into what was now his life was even worse than the stage-fright he got before shows.  
  
But Sho couldn’t stop. He couldn’t turn back. He had made his decision, chosen a path, and all he could do now was to follow it to see where it led.  
  
He looked up to the sky, which was clear and crisp in the cool night. A wind blew, and several leaves fell down from the high branches of the trees in the park. He thought he spied a falling star in the distance, and he made a wish.  
  
 _I hope that this path would lead me back to you one day._


End file.
